


Mourning

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [161]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Crying, Grief/Mourning, Sad, Tears, graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Dark disappears sometimes, with no word as to where he's going. Curiosity building for decades, Wilford finally decides to follow him.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstache
Series: The Ego Manor [161]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1166384
Comments: 37
Kudos: 241





	Mourning

Dark sometimes… _disappeared_.

Wilford had watched him perform this…this _ritual_ for _decades_. According to the Jims, he’d done it for even longer than that. Dark would go out into the garden, pick a single blue, and a single red rose, and disappear for _hours_. It was one of the few times CJ let someone pick flowers from his garden without throwing a fit. The _only_ time he wasn’t there to supervise it was done properly.

Dark…never looked good when he returned. Haggard, face gaunt and paler than usual. His aura was rarely _limp_ , but after coming back from _wherever_ he went…it dragged along behind him like a wet cape, clinging to as much of Dark’s back as it could before resolving to just be… _limp_.

To say Wilford was _concerned_ would be a _severe_ understatement.

He watched through the window as Dark moved slowly through the garden. The roses weren’t _supposed_ to be in bloom this early in the year, but…somehow, there were two beautiful, perfect roses, one red, one blue. CJ must’ve guided them to bloom earlier, in preparation.

It was one of those winter days where everything just felt… _grey_. Grey, and cold, and dry, and Wilford knew from years of being with him that Dark’s pain had a habit of acting up in this type of weather. Wilford was loathe to invade Dark’s privacy – clearly he didn’t want _anyone_ to know – but…he was worried about him. And if Dark’s pain spiked, he wouldn’t be able to get home. Well, that was a worst-case _agony_ levels of pain scenario, but _still_. Wilford should follow him. Just once, just in case. And if Dark didn’t need him, well, he never had to know Wilford was there.

He watched Dark pick his roses. Dark seemed far too out of it to notice Wilford watching as he twirled the roses between two fingers. Too out of it to notice Wilford reaching out with his own aura, invisible, and intertwining with Dark’s…

Dark vanished from the garden, unintentionally dragging Wilford with him.

Wilford staggered a bit, still a fair distance from Dark, though disoriented a bit. They appeared to be in the forest, behind the manor. Deep, _deep_ inside the forest. The trees were tall and ancient, little sunlight filtering through the interwoven branches. There wasn’t much sunlight to filter anyway, leaving the area dark.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, darting behind a nearby tree to keep out of sight. But, his caution appeared to be unnecessary. Dark was _wholly_ not paying attention to any of his surroundings, his red and blue mirror images appearing on either side of his body as he took a shaky step forward. Wilford couldn’t see what he was looking at. At least, not until Dark dropped to his knees on the forest floor.

…Were those _graves?_

They were. There were _graves_ , no words carved onto what appeared to be just two rather large, heavy rocks spaced about two feet apart. Wilford blinked, confused. Why would _Dark_ be visiting two graves somewhere deep in the forest? Who would even be buried here?

Dark placed a rose on each of the graves – the blue on his left, the red on his right – and he let out a quiet sob, hunching over a bit, hands braced against the frozen, dead grass. His shoulders shook. His images flickered. And kept flickering, fuzzing out entirely.

Wilford’s vision tunneled as Damien and Celine appeared before his eyes, kneeling in front of their own graves, and Dark completely broke down.

Wilford took a hesitant step forward, silent tears running down his own face. He…had never realized there would’ve been _bodies_ to bury, after all that had happened in the manor. He hadn’t realized Dark would’ve had to have been the one to bury them. It was… _twisted_ , and heartbreaking, at the same time.

Wilford laid a hand on Dark’s shoulder, shifting onto his knees between him and Celine, staring at the stone that marked her body. Dark jumped a mile, head snapping to face him with an audible crack, and he panicked, tears still pouring down his face. “W-Wil! I – you’re not supposed to be here, I…I…”

More tears welled, and Wilford tenderly kissed his cheek, wrapping one arm around Dark’s waist as Dark sobbed. “…It’s okay, Dark,” Wilford murmured. “It’s okay, I…I remember…”

Dark sniffed, gratefully leaning his head onto Wilford’s shoulder. Damien and Celine flickered again, silent, still as they stared at their own graves. Wilford reached for Celine’s hand, and she let him take it, glancing at him fleetingly before ducking her head, trying to hide her tears.

Damien looked…surprisingly _angry_ , flickering more often than Celine, and when Wilford tilted his head a bit curiously, Dark elaborated. “…There’s no body, for him. Not yet, anyway.” A scowl crossed Dark’s face. “He _stole_ my body.” Damien flickered like _mad_ on the word ‘my’. “And we didn’t want to bury _his_ here. So…it’s empty.”

Wilford shuddered, tugging Dark just that little bit closer. He squeezed Celine’s hand, uncaring of how cold she was. “…We’ll get your body back, Damien.” Damien turned his head to face him, a little of his anger fading from his expression. Wilford smiled at him. “Someday.”

“Someday…” Dark muttered, and Damien’s mouth moved in time.

Wilford hummed, resting his head on top of Dark’s as they stared at the graves. Tears still flowed heavily down their faces. Celine’s hand was shaking in his. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her to visit her own grave. He brought their hands up, gently kissing the back of her hand. She was _cold_ , and not all together solid, but still, Wilford let his lips linger.

When he brought their hands down again, Celine hesitantly squeezed his hand back, shooting him a small smile. Two more flowers appeared – a black calla lily for each grave, crossed over the roses like an ‘X’. Dark let out a shaking, gasping sob, turning to bury his face in Wilford’s shoulder, clinging to him desperately.

They didn’t move for hours.

Wilford only wished futilely that he’d remember this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> :)  
> Wednesday I think is one you guys'll be _really_ excited about uwu
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


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